


In Love and Sickness

by SabArtFan



Series: 100 Followers Giveaway [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cute, Established Relationship, Fluff, Love, M/M, Protective Derek, Self-Hatred, Sick Stiles, Stiles Stilinski Is So Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-07
Packaged: 2018-04-30 09:19:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5158478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SabArtFan/pseuds/SabArtFan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>100 Followers Giveaway - littlebit28</p>
<p>Fic Prompt<br/>So you are absolutely amazing, and I am soooo excited about the fic. You just made my day:)I am pumped to be following you. </p>
<p>Here is my fic request. I would like a fic with Stiles having tonsillitis or appendicitis and needing to have surgery and Derek being with him and taking care of him and Stiles is on pain meds and stuff. Preferably established relationship Sterek. Thank you!!</p>
<p>— littlebit28</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Love and Sickness

Derek keep hearing over and over in his head the sharp scream Stiles had let out a few hours ago. He keep seeing in slow motion how his husband had fell over on their kitchen floor holding his stomach and yowling as if someone was stabbing him. He’s agonizing in the Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital’s waiting room over the facts that had taken place an eternity ago it seemed. He keep blaming himself for his poor reactions (he’d stayed frozen for at least five minutes), for his weak decisions skills in an emergency situation (driving to the hospital instead of calling an ambulance), for how if he’d reacted faster Stiles wouldn’t be in an operating room right now getting an appendectomy.

Derek tells himself he should have yelled more at Stiles to go to the doctor when he started having a dull pain near his navel, even vomiting once, instead of letting him take his stupid antacid (basically everyday of the last week) and triggering Stiles’ appendix to burst. His head falls in his hands and he give himself the luxury of letting some tears fall. Derek would never let himself be caught in a moment of weakness (even less in public) ever. After all he’s gone through and the fact that “hey, I’m a werewolf!” he has developped an hyperawareness that haunt him every single day of his life since his family death.

Although, Stiles… Stiles is all he have. Stiles is what makes his life worth living for. He’d never be able to move past Stiles’ death. Would never forgive himself if his husband stupidly kill himself of a blood infection because he hated hospitals so much (comprehensively) and Derek didn’t want to push him. He’d gladly accept the wolfsbane bullet the Sheriff would most definitely put through his head.

Derek’s snapped out of his morbid thoughts when a doctor fills his side vision and clear his throat right beside him (congrats on the hyperawareness Sourwolf!). Derek lets his hopeful and desperate gaze meets the one looking down on him.

\- “How is he?” was the first thing Derek blurted out, urgent.

\- “Well, the surgery went well and we have high hopes that …” and the doctor kept on babbling medical nonsense that barely comforted Derek.

He was close to ripping the guy’s throat out with his teeth, loosing all control and shifting right then and there, when a warm hand fell on his shoulder. He looked up eagerly and saw Melissa’s tired brown eyes looking down at him. She squeezed gently his shoulder and smiled, doing wonder for his undeniable anxiety. She also gave him the answer the doctor wouldn’t give (now gone without a trace, somehow dismissed without Derek noticing).

\- “He’s fine. Stiles has always been strong and he’ll pull through this like a charm. You can visit him now, although he’s still sleeping due to the anesthesia. But John and Scott are coming by later on, after their works so you might want to take advantage of a quiet moment with your husband.” She finished her sentence by winking cutely at him and Derek thought he might burst into tears again if only for the relief he felt.

\- “Thank you,” he managed in a choked voice. The smile he got this time was even sunnier. He felt bad now for thinking that Stiles was all he had. He was surrounded by amazing persons every day.

He followed Melissa in an unsteady gait, the emotions roller coaster of the last hours taking its toll on him.

As soon as the heavy door opened to a pale and unmoving Stiles, he thought of nothing else but running to the bedside, holding the hands that were so tempting and graceful usually now looking fragile and brittle. He heard the whoosh of the door as it closed back, Melissa leaving him with his lover, husband and world.

He promised himself now and then that he’d never let anything happen to Stiles ever again. He promised to be better, more careful, more present and make sure that Stiles would be safe always.

  

* * *

 

Stiles woke up feeling fuzzy and lost. His head was a marshmallow and he could barely remember what he was doing or where he was. He vaguely recalled an agozining pain and a panicking Derek running up to him in barely 5 seconds? He shivered when he felt the ghost of the excruciating pain and distracted himself by looking up. He saw a white ceiling and awful neon tubes… the hospital.

He groaned in displeasure, blaming himself for his stupidity. Derek was right, he should have gone to the doctor two weeks ago. Talking about his husband… Stiles looked around and meet two anxious pools of vivid green-blue-gold, what-is-even-that-color, looking down at him. Stiles tried to manage a smile and didn’t really succeed which resulted in releasing the full-on worried frown of his Sourwolf. Stiles sighed internally ; he would be victim of the overprotective, guilt-ridden upset Derek for the next few weeks. He loved his husband, he really did, but Derek vs mere human sickness falling upon his loved ones was a nightmare. Indeed, he barely had the time to say hello that it started.

\- “Are you okay? Stiles? Are you in pain? Do you need me to call a nurse? Maybe I can fix your pillows? Do you want some water…” and it went on and on. Stiles never failed to find it very ironic how Derek, after some years of loosening up his emotional constipation, faced with helplessness turned into the babbling mess that was usually Stiles’ speciatly. He braced himself and breathed deeply.

\- “Derek. Stop it. I’m fine…” Derek almost cut him off with his eyebrows of doom at these words but Stiles wouldn’t let him. “Yes I know I’m in the hospital but I’m otherwise fine considering. As for the doctor, he’ll come by soon enough to give me a well-deserved lecture and how to take care of…” Stiles looked down then, wondering what had actually happened to his stomach. His eyes opened wide at the scar running in between his navel and hip. It was still red and the black stitches looked ominous enough that Stiles lost his words. He knew that if he’d look up, Derek would have this smug look of the one who’s right. He was not fine. Well he had not been fine. With luck, he would be from now on. Derek didn’t give him a chance to ponder that.

\- “See, I told you you weren’t fine. If I knew you’d get to this point, I’d have frog-marched you myself to the hospital two weeks ago. Actually, that’s what I’ll do from now on.” Derek said, determined and grim. Stiles felt an headache coming on just looking at him.

\- “Derek…” he whispered in the voice of those used to overbearing and protective relatives but was interrupted by a doctor walking into the room. It seemed like their talk would have to wait.

 

* * *

 

From what Derek had understood of the doctor’s orders, Stiles needed a lot of rest, couldn’t lift aything heavy (not even the milk carton, whatever Stiles might say) and needed to keep the scar as clean and dry as possible. They could also bandage it if the stitches were rubbing against clothing but Stiles had solved this by walking about shirtless to Derek’s great pleasure. (Stiles had stopped feeling self-conscious as soon as he realized how brainless and unfocused Derek got every time he removed any piece of clothing. Stiles was very smug about that.)

It had been 48 hours since their return and Stiles was already surly and grumpy. He’d snapped at Derek when he got in the shower with him to help clean the scar and most of all, so he wouldn’t overexert himself. Derek felt justified in his cautiousness but his husband didn’t seem to agree very much.

Although Derek was nothing if not stubborn himself. He kept on taking care of his Stiles as well as he could, no matter how often Stiles yelled that he wasn’t an invalid. Derek was maybe willing to admit that feeding his husband was a little excessive. But he couldn’t help himself. It was his fault that Stiles was recovering from surgery.

John and Scott might be onto something he didn’t know about though because as soon as Stiles started whining, sticking out his bottom lip in a childish pout, they had scattered as one man. John had even chuckled, sparkling eyes laughing at Derek before he left, saying he was “so glad to not be responsible anymore of the worst patient he’d ever came across.” At least Scott was nice enough to look bashful at his desertion.

Derek soldiered on as the days passed even when Stiles became increasingly biting and mean. He’d thrown a pillow at Derek’s head not five minutes ago when he suggested that he lay on the bed instead of the couch to read his emails as he may hurt himself by bending over. Derek wondered if he’d survived the next five days when Stiles was due to remove his stitches.

 

* * *

 

All hell broke loose two days later when Stiles was reduced to snarling and kicking Derek out of the bathroom after he tried unapologetically for the umpteenth times to help Stiles pee. He understood Derek’s trauma and worry but there was limits that he would not cross.

Stiles relieved himself quickly, after winning his fight over his privacy, dreading the moment he’d have to go downstairs and face Derek. He’d tried to put it off as long as possible but after five days of Derek the worrywart and five more to go, without counting the additional two to three weeks to full recovery, Stiles would be driven insane in no time and would probably kill Derek viciously, regretting it afterward obviously. He finished his business and braced himself for the pity party that would be going down in a few minutes.

He met Derek in the living room, his husband tense and withdrawn looking outside the window, arms crossed as always when he was feeling vulnerable. He didn’t have time to say a word before Derek spilled his guts (they’d came a long way from when Stiles had to pull words from him one by one).

\- “I know I’m overbearing right now and that I definitely have gone too far in trying to protect you but…” Derek cut himself and turned around to give Stiles his signature glare when Stiles snorted derisively. Derek huffed grumpily and kept on talking. “It’s my fault you’re in this situation now and I can’t handle seeing you in this state and not do anything about it…” Stiles almost interrupted him again, angry with Derek’s overwhelming habit of feeling guilty for everything (if one person was guilty here, it was Stiles for being a moron) but he was stopped by the glistening that gathered in his husband’s eyes. “I love you so much Stiles. I don’t think I would ever forgive myself if something happened to you…”

Derek contained himself quickly though before he broke Stiles’ heart completely. Although they loved each other very much, they both weren’t emotional guys who talked about their “feelings” (no matter what Lydia said about how healthy it was in a relationship), they both usually refused to display blatant distress unless absolutely necessary. Which now seemed to be the case. Stiles walked the few feet separating him from Derek and embraced him from behind, holding him close to his heart. He cleared the lump that had gathered in his throat before talking.

\- “Derek… I don’t know how many times I’ll have to tell you my moroness is not your fault. Actually, I should have listened to you but I was too stupid to do so. If you could please see things objectively for a moment, it’ll save me from kicking your ass again about your evergoing nonsensical talk of guiltiness.” Derek chuckled a little at that and Stiles counted it as a win. He needed it before entering the hard part of his speech. “And I love you too, so much, you dumbass… but if you ever try again to hold my dick while I pee and when I have two functionning hands, I swear to got I’ll shoot you full of wolfsbane and let you agonize long enough for you to remember how unnaceptable that is, right before I heal you.” Derek tensed again in his arms and Stiles sighed, dropping his irritation and trying to get through his husband’s thick skull. “Derek, I may be human but I’m not fragile. I’m a grown man and I’ve gone through way worst in my teenage years than an appendicitis. Stop feeling guilty and stop trying to keep me safe from the world! First of all, that will just make me feel suffocated and second of all, it also means that I won’t live at all.” Derek turned around at that, not moving away from Stiles’ embrace but his mouth turned down in a sad grimace although he seemed to catch on what Stiles was telling him. Stiles gave him a small smile of his own and kept talking. “And at the end of the day, I’ll hate you for enclosing me that way. And I love you to much to end up hating you Souwolf, alright? Do we have a deal? You keep the care and attention to decent concerns and I stop being a complete asshole to you?”

Stiles smirked, looking up into his beautiful husband’s eyes, that lightened even though Derek tried to keep a front with his surly frown. Stiles wasn’t buying it. He shook Derek a little bit to drag him out of his pouting and it seemed to work although a worrying gleam entered his Sourwolf’s eyes after a second. Stiles looked him over suspisciously when the frown stretched into a wicked grin.

\- “Very well, I can do that. Although I reserve the right to, from now on, tell you as often and as annoyingly as needed, how many times you are being an idiot and how wrong you are. I also demand my concerns over your well-being to be taken seriously into consideration.” Derek finished, exuding smugness and satisfaction.

It was Stiles’ turn to huff out grumpily, remembering how Derek mentioned once in a while his unhealthy love of junk food, his lack of work out regime and how he wouldn’t always be young, that his excesses would bite him in the ass eventually. He couldn’t really blame Derek though, as he had the same concerns toward his own dad, being ten thousand times more annoying than Derek had ever been. Stiles had just decided to ignore Derek at the time as avoidance was his preferred way to deal with a problem. Although, the failure of his body when he least expected it (after all, Beacon Hills had been quiet for a long time) had shaken him a little bit as well. In any dramatic and supernatural situation, Stiles had always been able to count on his body’s ability to adapt and burn through any pain or discomfort. It hadn’t happened this time and he felt oddly betrayed. Maybe it was time for him to take a little more care of himself. And if it made Derek happy, and even his Dad (though John would probably feel oddly avenged if Stiles started eating “rabbit food” as he said), then that was just for the best. Stiles looked up at Derek, considering, and stretched out his hand saying :

\- “That’s a deal.”

Derek laughed freely, throwing his head backward in this move that always struck Stiles with its inherent beauty. His Sourwolf ignored the stretched hand, hugging him fiercely instead and kissing him with fervor, muddling Stiles’ brain of any other thoughts, starved as he’d been with only the chaste kisses Derek had allowed the previous five days.

They melted in each other embraces, knowing that from now on things would be as fine as they could be. And if Derek ended up following him like a lost puppy, looking at him with wide eyes and a permanent aura of gloom and doom for the next few days following their talk, well Stiles tolerated it and told himself it was a small price to pay to finally be able to pee in peace and have a little breathing room.

One thing for sure, Derek would always be protective of him and Stiles didn’t expect any less. But he also knew that his husband loved him very much, that he was probably the most important person in Derek’s life (as well as Derek was in his) and Stiles would never, ever, blame Derek for being scared of losing him. He would also love Derek and himself enough to be a little more cautious, and learn from his mistakes. After all, he had no intentions of leaving his gorgeous Sourwolf alone anytime soon, no matter what it took. Derek was it for him and that was the only thing that mattered.

The End!


End file.
